I give this poem to the lost word – to its bearing and ball – & I give it to last a forever that is more river than eye – I keep this poem as found word – as wet as river – to sing the word into a poem – sink it as a stone would – would it not? to bring the word into a poem – brink of being word or wordstone – to stagger onward with the word as if it was the last one & the first – a poem is lost in the trees – it does not know how to wait to listen to believe in ether – give me one branch of one tree & I will give you a rainforest – give me one wordbranch of one song – speak into the hollow wind – howl it stories of lost trees & lost poems – the wind will whisper it to the other –
Lovely this one. It works to as a poem to our lost world, which seems more lost every moment. Very beautiful.
… thanks 🙂 It’s written in the spirit of reciprocity with all-that-is in the hope that we might be able to play our small part in putting things right.
❤️
❤
Beautiful.
Thank you 🙂
Pleasure 🙂
Really love this piece. Saving it. There is hope and goodness in your words.
Hope all is well in your corner
Thanks Audra 🙂 Even when there is no hope, there is hope… all’s well here, and hope you are too.
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Interesting: demands more pondering, which I shall do after more editing. Petru sent me to you, based on a Tree’s words from a short story I’ve been posting serially.
Respectful Regards,
Shira
Thanks Shira (and Petru). I will follow your Tree’s words soon.
Many thanks, and I hope you find value here, as well as collaboration for Humanity.
Warm Regards,
Shira
This is lovely, how it flows and branches out and back in again. The world is in every tiny fragment and every tiny fragment is a world. My thanks to Petru too for sending me here.
Some pieces seem to have fallen into place just right for this one. Not sure how but I am glad they did. Thanks Jane for the kind words and Petru for sharing.